A Unified Dance
by Changedstripes
Summary: What happened next.
1. Chapter 1

_A shorter story to serve as a coda to my previous story 'How Should I presume'._

* * *

Phryne sat almost primly beside Jack, trying to hold still against the occasionally violent swings of the tram as it made its way across town.

Jack turned and smiled with some amusement. "You do realise, Miss Fisher, that you are allowed to touch me if the movement of this tram should make such a thing unavoidable."

Phryne rolled her eyes. He was enjoying this entirely too much. "Of course, Inspector. But I do feel a certain amount of responsibility when it comes to protecting your reputation."

"I can see that." Jack's voice was still amused as he took in her uncharacteristically subdued, and yes, almost demure, outfit.

"I'm glad you find this so entertaining, Jack." She gave him a look that was part defiance, part pleading, and he instantly sobered.

Jack took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, his eyes utterly serious as they searched hers.

Phryne gave a small nod of acknowledgement and returned his squeeze. She thought back to their conversation the previous evening when she had suggested they catch the tram rather than take her car. He had not been able to hide his astonishment.

**X**

"And why would you want to do that?" he asked.

Phryne gave him a withering look. "Oh come on Jack, you know perfectly well I often catch the tram into town when I don't want to go to the bother of getting my motorcar out."

Jack nodded in acknowledgement, but still looked confused. "But we aren't going into town."

Phryne looked down, suddenly feeling slightly foolish. "I know, but I thought since we are trying to be discrete, a tram serves that purpose better than the Hispano does."

Jack gathered her into his arms, and she buried her face gratefully in his shoulder.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not sure that being seen together on a tram qualifies as discrete. And besides," he pulled back and gently lifted her chin so she would raise her eyes to him, "I don't think we are fooling anyone."

Phryne smiled at that. He was right. Their attempts at keeping their involvement private had been miserably thwarted by growing scandal generated by Sanderson and Fletcher's arrests. Even the usually restrained _Argus_ had devoted several column inches to describing the whole sordid smuggling affair in uncharacteristically lurid detail. Both their names had, of course, been mentioned several times in connection with one another, and it seemed that despite their best attempts at discretion and circumspection, the rest of the city was being encouraged to form their own opinions by the increasingly outrageous speculation being put forth by the media in its entirety.

"Perhaps it's time we stopped pretending?" he suggested softly.

Phryne raised an immaculately groomed eyebrow in surprise. "Pretending?"

"Pretending that we aren't involved."

"But the case…" Phryne trailed off, feeling slightly disconcerted at the turn the conversation was taking.

Jack tightened his arms around her and drew her head back down to his shoulder, as if sensing that maintaining eye contact might become challenging for them both. "The case will be how the case will be, Phryne," he murmured into her hair. "I've no doubt that Fletcher's lawyers are doing their best to feed the papers a steady stream of gossip designed to denigrate both of us. I'm wondering if it might be better to head off the sensational speculation and let people see that we are in a respectable relationship. Neither of us is married – our desire to keep company is nothing to be ashamed of."

Phryne snorted. "I think you might find there are several things we do while keeping company that would shock the populace."

Jack was unable to hide his laugh at that. "True," he said trailing his lips lower until they reached her ear. "I'm not proposing we disclose what goes on behind closed doors."

Phryne found it hard to concentrate when he did that. She let out a strangled moan and just managed to nod her head.

"And don't worry," he continued, while nibbling on her ear. "I'm not suggesting that I need to make an honest woman out of you."

Through the rush of sensation he was inspiring, Phryne breathed a sigh of relief. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that kind of permanence, preferring instead to take life at the same breathless pace she had become accustomed to, allowing her need to be with him dictate her actions above all else. It was an entirely new feeling for someone as accustomed to embracing hedonistic independence as she was, to suddenly find herself devoted to and dependant upon the devotion of just one person.

Jack had taken the opportunity to intensify his attentions to her neck, moving his lips upwards towards hers tortuously slowly. Wickedly, he stopped just short of her mouth and grinned. "So no need for the tram then?"

Phryne blinked, shaking off the haze of desire that had descended the moment his lips had touched her skin. It took her an embarrassingly long moment to register what Jack had said. "I think I would still prefer to take the tram, thank you," she said more sharply than she had intended.

Jack drew back in surprise. "But why?"

Phryne removed herself reluctantly from his arms and moved across the room to fetch a drink for them both. When she turned back to hand his glass to him, his brow was creased with worry.

'Phryne?' he asked cautiously.

Phryne bit down on her lip. How did she explain her sudden preference for the rattling, dusty discomfort of a tram over her beloved Hispano? She took a long sip of her drink, pondered and finally said, "I just thought it might be better if I was a bit less conspicuous."

Jack looked at her as if she had grown another head. "And why would you think that?" When she didn't answer, Jack clasped her hand and led her to her loveseat. "Phryne, I've never thought you needed to be less conspicuous."

The sincerity with which he uttered those words was in such contrast to their truthfulness that Phryne couldn't help smiling. "Darling Jack!" she said squeezing his hand, "as much as I love you for saying that, you know as well as I do it simply isn't true. The whole world has thought at some point that I need to be less conspicuous." She smiled at the rueful look that crossed his face.

"Surely not the whole world."

She rolled her eyes affectionately. "Very well, but in my defence, my occasional preference for exaggeration could be classified as contributing to my conspicuousness. And mostly I couldn't care less what the rest of the world thinks about me, as I'm sure you can attest."

"Indeed. But?" He was still looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Phryne looked down at the glass in her hand, as if suddenly fascinated by the way the liquid moved inside it. "But in this instance it suddenly seems quite important not to make the wrong impression," she said in an uncharacteristically small voice.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them and Phryne continued to stare fixedly at her glass. Eventually Jack reached out and gently removed the glass from her hand, then took both of her hands in his and tilted his head down so he could make eye contact with her. "Phryne, have I given you the impression that I want you to somehow alter yourself?"

Phryne swallowed. Of course he hadn't. It was much more complicated than that. She knew there were things he wished he could change about her, most of which centred on her penchant for dangerous pursuits, but she believed him when he said he would never ask that of her. The problem lay in her own sudden, unnerving need to change aspects of her behaviour. It was not an impulse she was particularly accustomed to, having spent the past decade steadfastly pursuing her right to live, love and spend as she saw fit. "No you haven't," she said, finally. "But I have been wondering if I should."

Jack looked troubled by her revelation even as he reached out and cupped her cheek. "Only you can decide that for yourself, Phryne. But please don't use me as an excuse."

Despite the thumb he was brushing soothingly across her cheekbone, Phryne felt an irrational frustration begin to rise to the surface. Beset by conflicting emotions, she couldn't help but feel unnerved by his words. "When have I ever needed an excuse to do anything?"

"Point taken."

"Must you always be so determinedly neutral, Jack?" she asked as her internal turmoil continued to edge the frustration closer to the surface.

Jack pulled back, and regarded her in some confusion. Then a small smile crossed his face. "I believe I've noted on more than one occasion that I think your approach to driving could benefit from more restraint and caution."

Phryne opened her mouth to protest, but found to her annoyance that the twinkle she now saw in Jack's eyes was rapidly replacing her irritation with an urge to laugh. She supposed he did have a point. His face broke into a grin that was both cheeky and provocative and she lost her battle against her mirth. Laughing, Phryne allowed herself to be drawn back into his arms. When their merriment subsided she rested her forehead against his chest.

"Phryne, what's troubling you?" he asked. "If the thought of going to -"

She cut him off with a vehement shake of her head. "No, I want to go." She glanced up with a warm smile. "I'm actually quite flattered to be asked."

"Then why the sudden need to forsake your motorcar in favour of the tram?" She started to protest again, but he closed her mouth with a quick kiss. "And yes, I am aware that you do catch trams on occasion, but I'm having a hard time understanding why this qualifies as such an occasion."

Phryne decided she quite approved of his preferred method of distraction, and raised herself up on her tiptoes to place a kiss of her own against his terribly tempting mouth. "I guess these days I'm more mindful of the statement both my car and my driving make when I am accompanied by you."

Jack tilted his head as he regarded her, as if considering his response carefully. "Well as much I appreciate the sentiment. And, I really do," he said pressing a series of soft kisses across her cheeks, "I'm still not sure how to respond to the idea of you wanting to change the impression you create."

"Don't worry, Jack," Phryne breathed, feeling her senses rapidly being overcome again. "I don't plan on making a habit of it, but in this instance I would really feel much better if we take the tram."

Jack paused in his kisses to nod and Phryne felt inexplicably relieved. "Now that we have that sorted, perhaps we should retire for the evening," she said, pulling out of his embrace to clasp his hand, tugging him towards the stairs. "I must be at my absolute best for tomorrow."

"Phryne, you do realise that you are not being expected to take tea with the King? I don't think you need twice your normal amount of sleep."

Phryne fixed Jack with her most suggestive look. "I don't recall saying anything about sleeping, Jack." She grinned salaciously. "I was merely planning to get my fill of all those wicked things we keep behind closed doors, so I'm not continually distracted by inappropriate thoughts regarding you, tomorrow."

Jack's eyes widened in delight. "In that case, Miss Fisher, I see no reason to object."

"Wise decision," Phryne laughed as she led him up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

_Apologies for the protracted period between chapters - real life intervened. _

* * *

Jack held Phryne's gaze for a few more moment's before turning his attention to the street that was passing by outside the tram window. Relaxing back against the seat, Phryne was tempted to take him up on his offer of physical contact and rest her head on his shoulder, but decided to behave herself when she felt the vaguely disapproving gaze of an elderly woman sitting across from them.

"This is our stop." Jack stood up and pulled the cord, bracing himself against the hand strap when they slowly stopped several minutes later. Feeling almost reluctant to leave the noisy sanctuary of the tram, Phryne gathered up the flowers that were sitting on the seat beside her and followed Jack down the steps to the footpath with as much dignity as she could muster.

Jack took her arm and led her down Bridge Road, turning down another street and then another until they came to a neat double-fronted, detached house. They paused at the front gate for a moment. "This is it," he murmured.

"Jack?" She touched his hand gently and he turned and gave her an unabashedly happy smile.

"Shall we?" he asked placing his arm around her and drawing her through the wrought iron gate and up to the front door. Jack knocked and the sound of footsteps tracing a path from inside could be heard almost immediately. The door was enthusiastically pulled open to reveal a woman with an obvious resemblance to Jack standing on the threshold looking at them expectantly.

Jack looked nonplussed. "Emmy? I wasn't aware you were going to be here today?"

The woman grinned broadly. "You didn't think I'd miss the chance to meet your Miss Fisher did you Jack?" She stood back to let them pass through the door, and as they stood uncomfortably in the small entrance hall, she regarded Phryne with forthright curiosity. "Well Jack?"

"Yes, of course." Jack said, before awkwardly attempting the introductions. "Miss Phryne Fisher, this is my sister Emma Martin"

Phryne gave her most winning smile and extended her hand. "Delighted to meet you."

Emma took it warmly, but her amused gaze remained fixed on Jack. "Twin sister, actually."

Phryne blinked in surprise. "I thought you said your sister was older?"

Emma laughed again. "But I am his older sister, Miss Fisher. By a whole twenty minutes, and believe me, that has made all the difference."

Jack grimaced with a small smile. "Only because you never let me forget it," he grumbled good-naturedly.

"Can't help it if I was more eager to seize the day than you were, darling brother," she teased. "Did you know Miss Fisher, that according to our mother, Jack was so reluctant to emerge into the world, even after I had blazed a trail for him, that the midwife nearly had to reach in and pull him out as one would with a calf?"

Phryne did not quite know what to make of that, so she settled for smiling politely. Glancing over at Jack she was slightly surprised to note that he was grinning almost as broadly as his sister. Evidentially he was familiar with, and fond of, her teasing. Phryne felt unaccountably cheered by the thought that Jack had known such levity in his life, having previously been mostly accustomed to the air of sadness that often seemed to surround him. This, however, explained his sly sense of humour that sometimes made itself known, she thought with satisfaction.

Before Emma could resume her playful jibes, another female voice sounded from the back of the house. "Children! Are you fighting again?" An older woman stepped into the hallway. "Ah, Jack!" His mother was clearly delighted to see him. She moved forward to press an affectionate kiss to his cheek. "So lovely to see you at last!"

Jack looked contrite, but still amused. "Well, um, things have been hectic lately," he offered fondly.

His mother glanced at Phryne and smiled knowingly. "No doubt." Phryne couldn't help but smile back at that. It seemed that the sly sense of humour ran in the family "Are you going to introduce me to your Miss Fisher?"

Phryne was gratified when Jack placed a hand on the small of her back and drew her closer. "Mother, may I present to you, Miss Phryne Fisher," he said with mock formality. "Miss Fisher, my mother, Alice Robinson."

"I'm so pleased to meet you, Mrs Robinson." Phryne extended her free hand to Jack's mother, who took it while fixing her with an openly assessing gaze.

"And I am delighted to finally be introduced to the infamous Lady Detective who has my son so enthralled, but please call me Alice."

"Only if you call me Phryne," she replied while shyly presenting Jack's mother with the flowers she had insisted on bringing because turning up empty handed had somehow felt wrong.

"Oh how lovely!" Alice took them and inhaled their scent. "Well Phryne," she continued, "since both my children seem to have forgotten their manners, it remains to me to ask you to please come through."

Phryne could not help but glance questioningly at Jack. She was feeling curiously bashful here in Jack's house, whereas he seemed more relaxed and at ease than she had ever known him to be.

Jack took her arm and they followed his mother and sister through to a small parlour. "Look who has arrived!" Mrs Robinson announced enthusiastically. Two men and a young boy who were sitting beside the fire that was warming the room, looked up in interest.

"Phryne," Jack began, leading her over to the elder of the two men, who was quite obviously his father, "may I introduce my father, William Robinson. Father, may I present to you Miss Phryne Fisher."

Mr Robinson seemed rather diverted by Jack's attempt at formality. He rose to his feet and offered his hand to Phryne. "Surely you mean the Honourable Miss Fisher?" he asked with a hint of cheekiness.

Phryne was slightly disconcerted by this, but Jack gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, and she realised that this was yet another good-natured tease. "Please call me Phryne." She took his hand in a firm grasp.

Mr Robinson smiled in a manner that was disarmingly similar to Jack. "Of course," He resumed his seat. "And you must call me William. We don't stand on ceremony here."

Jack turned to the younger man who was seated beside his father, "And this is my sister's husband David."

Turning to offer her hand to him, Phryne noticed the crutches leaning neatly against the arm of David's chair, and her eyes were involuntarily drawn to his left leg that had been amputated just below the knee. Realising she was staring, Phryne flushed and looked away with a start. She really was feeling most unlike herself.

David seemed untroubled by her interest. "I'm afraid I won't stand," he said smiling kindly.

"Of course." She shook his hand briefly.

"Which leaves only, young Thomas," Jack said reaching out to affectionately tousle the boy's hair.

"Uncle Jack!" Thomas exclaimed in exasperation. "I'm not so young anymore."

"Ah, that's right!" Jack turned to Phryne with mock seriousness. "I forgot that Thomas is now a young man of 15 and is apprenticed to a commercial art studio in the city. And he has began attending classes at the National Gallery School."

"Most impressive. I have a particular interest in art." Phryne remarked appreciatively, extending her hand for the Thomas to shake, biting back a smile, as he looked back at her, mouth slightly ajar. She felt Jack stifle a laugh.

"Well," cut in Jack's mother, "now that you have met the family Miss Fisher, perhaps we should -" Before she could finish two small girls burst into the room followed by a boisterous dog.

"Girls!" Emma said, striding forward to catch the two giggling bundles before they could get any further.

Jack's mother reached out to restrain the dog that had decided to launch itself at the only unfamiliar body in the room, and was backing Phryne against a wall. "That is quite enough from you, Augustus!" Alice grabbed the dog by his collar and gently dragged him from the room.

Before she could recover from finding herself the unwilling object of Augustus's attention, Phryne felt a small hand tug on her dress. She groaned inwardly. Now was probably not the best time to remind Jack that she didn't do children, so she plastered her most welcoming smile on her face and bent down to acknowledge the little girl who was doing her best to attach herself to her leg. "Hello there."

"Viola, Grace please don't bother Miss Fisher and Uncle Jack," Emma called as the bigger of the two girls flung herself at Jack's knees.

Phryne looked up. "It's fine, really." She felt Jack surreptitiously touch her back soothingly. Phryne looked back down at the child who was staring at her as if trying to size her up. Her elder sister shrieked in delight as Jack lifted her up into his arms.

"You're Uncle Jack's new lady aren't you?" the little girl asked suspiciously.

"Viola," her mother warned.

Phryne kept the smile fixed on her face. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Viola tilted her head, sizing Phryne up. "I thought you would be covered in jewels and all shiny like my Granny promised," she said, clearly disappointed.

Phryne couldn't help but laugh at that, even as she noted Emma's horrified gasp and the startled look that passed across Jack's face as he gently set Grace back on her feet. "I am very sorry to disappoint you," she told the little girl solemnly, "Perhaps next time I can make myself a bit more sparkly for you?" This seemed to satisfy Viola who allowed herself to be drawn away with her sister by their still mortified mother.

"Well then," said a merry voice belonging to Jack's mother who had returned from exiling Augustus, "now we have that cleared up, perhaps it's time we had lunch?"

The rest of the room's occupants seemed only too willing to oblige as they all rose and shuffled from the room. Jack regarded his mother with a raised eyebrow. "Really mother?" he asked sounding half amused and half exasperated. Exactly, Phryne realised with a jolt, how he often sounded when discussing a case with her.

Alice laughed and shrugged carelessly. "Oh don't look at me like that, Jack. You know how children are. Viola had some questions for me regarding your Phryne and I merely did my best to answer them. And given you have been regaling us for nearly two years with stories of the infamous Lady Detective who inserted herself into your investigations, you can hardly be surprised that our impressions of her began to take on almost mythical proportions"

Jack sighed in resignation but did not say any more. His mother smiled, patted his cheek and followed the others out of the room leaving them briefly alone. "I'm sorry Phryne." Jack took the chance to wrap her in his arms and nuzzle against her neck.

Phryne closed her eyes in pure contentment at the feeling of his lips pressing against the curve where her neck met her shoulder. "Jack, it's fine." She gave into the temptation to press her body more fully against his, loving the involuntary gasp she startled from him. "Besides, I think I quite like being called 'your' Phryne." She felt his grip on her tighten momentarily before he reluctantly rescued her.

He pressed a quick, furtive kiss against her lips. "I think we had better join the rest of them before they send out a search party."

X

Lunch was a relaxed, boisterous affair that Phryne found herself enjoying. She was relishing listening to the family chatter that was flowing around her. Her initial nervousness overcome, she delighted in the glimpse she was being given of a completely relaxed, comfortable and cheerfully engaged Jack. Her enjoyment of the conversation was not at all tempered by the fact he had not been exaggerating when he had told her his sister enjoyed besting him at every opportunity.

"So Jack," Emma said, sounding mischievous, after the table had been cleared and Alice had started to serve tea and coffee. "Given that you neglected to tell Phryne that we are twins, I can't help but wonder what other secrets you are keeping from her about us."

It was evident that Emma meant only to tease, but the idea of secrets, particularly in the wake of the Sanderson scandal, made Phryne tense unwillingly. She felt Jack touch her thigh in what she assumed was meant to be reassurance underneath the table.

He fixed his sister with a withering gaze, designed to deflect, that Phryne recognised all too well. "You know I never keep secrets."

Emma laughed. "That I do my darling brother." She threw a playful look at Phryne. "But only because you are so appallingly bad at any kind of subterfuge."

Phryne had to nod in agreement at that, as Jack looked between them feigning outrage. "Oh come on Jack," she said trying not to giggle, "You know your sister is right. I don't consider it a character flaw."

"I might have known introducing the two of you was a bad idea," he pretended to huff, while his hand started to surreptitiously stroke her knee underneath the table.

Jack's fingers were distractingly, tortuously caressing her, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She was so preoccupied by the sensations he was invoking that it took her a few moments to realise that the rest of the table was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to respond to a question she had not heard.

"Phryne?" Jack asked innocently, as though he had not been the one assiduously distracting her with his treacherous touches.

Phryne placed her own hand on his thigh, deliberately close to his groin. "Yes Jack?" she asked sweetly.

Jack jumped almost imperceptibly, and gripped her hand, stopping it from inching higher. "Emma was just asking you about Shakespeare?"

Phryne gave herself a mental shake. "Shakespeare?" she asked, confused.

"Actually," Emma raised a challenging eyebrow at Jack, "I was wondering if he has been boring you rigid with his endless quoting of Shakespeare?"

Once again, Phryne found herself looking to Jack to assess his reaction, and once again, she was pleased to see him grinning with indulgent fondness at his sister's teasing. She supposed she should not be so surprised, given Jack had never seemed too bothered by her own propensity to tease him. "I wouldn't say Jack is _ever_ boring."

Emma laughed approvingly. "Touché! In Jack's defence, he does come by his admiration honestly, more or less. Did he ever tell you about our weekly Shakespeare recitals?"

Phryne turned to Jack with a cheeky look of her own. "No he didn't. But I can just picture it!"

Jack glared at both Phryne and Emma in mock exasperation. "And I'm sure it affords you no end of amusement, Miss Fisher."

"I am interested in all your talents, Jack," Phryne said with a pert grin, forgetting for a moment as their gazes locked that they were surrounded by most of his family.

"Viola has a Shakespeare name!" Grace piped up enthusiastically from the opposite side of the table.

"I do not!" Viola cried indignantly. "I have my own name."

"Yes you do, mummy told me. You are named after the lady who dressed as a boy!" Grace crowed at her younger sister triumphantly. Viola poked her tongue out in outrage and then glowered.

"I tried to convince Alice to let me name these two Viola and Sebastian," William chimed in nodding at Jack and Emma, effectively distracting his small granddaughters before full-scale war could break out. "Said it wasn't fair to saddle them with such fanciful names." He looked rather mournful at the thought.

"And I am forever grateful for that," Jack said. "I suspect I've had a much easier time in the police force as one of many Jacks than I would have had as the only Sebastian."

Phryne smiled challengingly. "Are you suggesting that uncommon names are undesirable?"

Jack merely grinned back. "Not at all. They can be rather magnificent on the right person."

"Well, your interpretation of Shakespeare was always better than your Gilbert and Sullivan," Alice threw in. "Phryne, did Jack ever tell you about-"

"A-hem." This time Jack's glare appeared mostly sincere so Phryne smothered a laugh, and chose not to comment.

Her attempt to suppress her amusement did not go entirely unnoticed. "Don't worry Miss Fisher, you do get used to it," David observed wryly.

Emma shook her head affectionately at her husband. "Don't pay any attention to him Phryne. He has been part of the furniture here since he and Jack first climbed the tree in our backyard and started pelting gum nuts at me for fun."

"No less than you deserved," Jack offered. "But I suppose I can at least be glad that Lucy was unable to join us today. I think one sister haranguing me is quite enough."

"Children!" Alice chided. Phryne noticed her surreptitiously nudge her husband's hand. William, who had been watching on with fond forbearance, immediately rose to his feet.

"Jack, I was hoping you could come and take a look at my bicycle for me. I've been having an issue with the chain that could use your expert touch."

Jack looked started at the sudden change of subject. "Of course, if you think it will help." He looked at Phryne, carefully assessing her reaction to his potential disappearance.

"No need to worry son." Alice waved him away. We can entertain Phryne for you."

"That is what I'm afraid of."

"Perhaps David and Thomas might like to join you. Emma tells me Tom is saving for his own bicycle," his mother continued, cheerfully ignoring Jack's obvious reluctance to leave the table.

David smiled sympathetically at Phryne again, and pulled himself upright with practiced skill. "No use resisting, old mate. You know as well as I do." He grabbed his crutches and followed Jack's father from the room.

Alice and Emma exchanged a speaking look as Jack turned to Phryne, who merely nodded encouragingly and murmured, "Go have fun deconstructing bicycles, Jack. I will be perfectly fine here."

Shrugging helplessly, Jack rose and followed the others outside. Emma shooed her two small daughters, who had become restless again, from the table leaving Phryne to face what she suspected was about to become something of an inquisition. But she wasn't particularly disconcerted, even though she found herself wishing rather desperately for their approval. She recognised a certain wry humour in both women that she felt would her ease her way, so she braced herself ever so slightly and waited for them to begin.


	3. Chapter 3

So sorry for the lack of updates, but the rest of this story really did not want to be written, and has, in fact, been dragged onto the 'page' kicking and screaming. Perhaps after reading it you may think it had a point that I would have done well to listen to, but to make up for my extended silence I am posting two chapters back to back to wrap this up.

* * *

"_Experience, though no authority  
__Were in this world, were good enough for me,  
__To speak of the woe that is in all marriage"_

"The Wife of Bath's Prologue", Geoffrey Chaucer

* * *

Silence descended upon the table that none of the three women seemed inclined to fill. Rather, they looked between other with some amusement, resolutely not speaking, as if waiting to see who would crack first.

Eventually Alice spoke. "Jack's often vivid and detailed descriptions of you did not lead me to believe you would be so reticent, Phryne," she remarked wryly. Her expression was not unkind.

Phryne nodded, feeling almost as though acknowledging an opponent. "I'm afraid you have me at an advantage, as Jack has not been as forthcoming about you."

Alice traded a look with Emma and both women smiled knowingly. "My son is not the most forthcoming of men."

Phryne bit back her own smile at that.

"He is a curious combination, as I'm sure you have noticed," Alice continued. "Scrupulously honest, but impossibly reticent at the same time."

"Indeed. But I do love a good mystery."

"So I hear. I can tell you, though, he was born with that furrow in his brow and I have been trying to laugh it out of him ever since, with varying degrees of success."

Phryne's own brow furrowed slightly. "I find having to work harder for his trust, and even those occasional flashes of humour merely heightens the rewards."

Alice's face softened, and she reached out to pat Phryne's hand. "Not to worry, Phryne. I'm not trying to warn you off. I am, however, attempting to get your measure."

"We've already watched him suffer through one failed marriage," Emma added.

Phryne felt herself bristling. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind both women she had not declared any intention of marrying Jack, but then she remembered they inhabited a world where marriage was possibly the only acceptable culmination of her relationship with Jack.

"Jack has, of course, told us of your stance on marriage, Phryne," Alice said in the same steady, measured voice that was starting to unnerve Phryne. "And quite frankly I'm stunned he has managed to overcome his scruples and throw caution to the wind."

"Mrs Robinson, I can assure you -"

"Stunned, but rather pleased, _Miss Fisher_."

Phryne was unable to hide her surprise at that.

Alice grinned, clearly enjoying Phryne's obvious confusion. "Pleased that Jack has managed to at last shrug off the vestiges of the dreary, out-dated morality the Sandersons did their best to impose on him."

"Thoroughly hypocritical morality, as it turns out," Emma added.

Still slightly discombobulated by the turn the conversation had taken, Phryne took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Well yes, and not a mindset I subscribe to."

"I never liked that man." Emma said rather fiercely.

"I think the feeling may have been mutual and possibly extended to the rest of our family," Alice observed.

Emma rolled her eyes. "What my mother is trying to say, Phryne, is that as awful as the circumstances might have been, we are glad that Jack has at last been made irrevocably aware of George Sanderson's failings."

Phryne nodded regretfully, remembering the terrified girls she had discovered secreted on the Pandarus, bound for an unimaginable fate.

"Personally, I thought it a shame he was released when Jack arrested him the first time," Emma added, her voice tinged with grim satisfaction, presumably at the thought of George Sanderson now detained indefinitely at His Majesty's pleasure.

"So did I," Phryne admitted. Sanderson had always struck her as the sort of man who valued power above all else, and who hid behind the tedious sort of moralising she generally avoided. She only wished Jack had not suffered such a painful disillusionment when the mask fell away. Emboldened by the direction the conversation had taken, Phryne decided to venture an observation of her own. "I gather Jack rather admired George Sanderson?"

"Jack looked up to him," Alice said, sadness tinging her voice. "And Sanderson saw the benefit in having such a bright and capable acolyte."

"No doubt." Phryne's heart pinched at the thought of a youthful Jack untroubled by the burdens that were awaiting him.

"And, of course Jack was bursting with enthusiasm to impress him, to prove himself."

"Sounds like Jack." Phryne's heart pinched a little harder.

"But it was obvious, to his father and I at least, that Sanderson did not appreciate Jack's finer qualities."

Emma snorted. "Not in the slightest. I think it is clear now he only saw Jack as a means to an end – an easy mark to manipulate. Which possibly goes a long way towards explaining why he was so eager for his pampered daughter to marry a poor young constable."

"I suspect that is Sanderson's default way of regarding people," Phryne observed with no small amount of bitterness of her own.

"I'm glad _you_ are able to appreciate Jack's finer qualities, Phryne," Alice said quietly, all traces of amusement gone.

"I do," Phryne told her solemnly. "I have never met anyone quite like your son. I consider myself immeasurably lucky to have found him." It occurred to Phryne that this was as close to a declaration of commitment and dependence upon a man as she had ever come, and she noted the curious lack of concern or confusion such an admission cost her. She filed this knowledge away for future exploration.

"Which is more than could be said for Rosie for much of their marriage."

"Emma…" Alice drew her daughter's name out, a clear hint of warning in her voice.

"Well it's true isn't it?" Emma demanded defiantly.

"You are forgetting wasn't always that way between them. They didn't start out so at odds."

"She was always wrong for him."

"Perhaps," Alice said, "But it does Jack no favours to cling to this resentment for Rosie."

Phryne opened her mouth to agree with Alice, but shut it firmly at the thunderous look that crossed Emma's face.

"Someone might as well, as Jack is ever determined to give her the benefit of the doubt, despite all the times she let him down." Emma's voice was heavy with barely repressed anger.

"It is not our place to judge. They are not our wounds."

Phryne began to have the uncomfortable feeling she was being shown parts of Jack's past he would not have chosen to reveal to her. "Perhaps we should - " she began.

"It's alright, Phryne," Alice interjected, as Emma glared into her nearly empty teacup. "There are things you need to know that I imagine Jack may find hard to speak of. I suspect he has an inkling of how our discussion will unfold."

"I'm sure we lost count of the times she left," Emma said darkly.

Phryne blanched. "It was more than just once?" She was unable to hide her shock.

"It would have been kinder were it just once and for all, but she kept up the ridiculous dance for well over a year. It got to the point that every time Jack did or said something that displeased her, she flounced off to one of her sisters."

Phryne closed her eyes briefly, picturing the repeated blows to Jack's closely guarded dignity.

Alice was watching her intently. "I would not want you to think my son is perfect, or indeed blameless in all of this. But it was terribly hard watching it unfold."

"The first time was during the police strike," Emma said.

Phryne thought back to her amazement when he had spoken of the strike. It had been the first time he had managed to thoroughly surprise her. "Jack told me that he had been involved in the strike."

"And he told us of your astonishment." Alice observed coolly.

"After which he very quickly pointed out my lack of insight into his character." Phryne looked levelly at the two women opposite her. "And he was right. But in my defence," she continued, "all my knowledge of the strike came from my Aunt Prudence who described it as a period of such apocalyptic lawlessness that I found it hard to countenance the idea of Jack being involved."

"Apocalyptic is an apt description. The strike was like fighting a war all over again," Alice said sorrowfully, "but this time the enemy was not so clearly defined."

Phryne bit her lip, thinking about how little she really knew about Jack. It seemed he had been there during all her worst times; a steadying hand for her to reach for, but his painful moments had been lived away from her. "I imagine Sanderson wasn't happy when Jack joined the strike?"

Emma snorted. "Not at all, but Jack keeps his own counsel on what he thinks is right. Always has."

Phryne could only nod in agreement. Jack's unwavering, but wonderfully nuanced moral compass was one of the things she loved the most about him.

"Rosie was more upset than her father," Emma said sharply. "Which was ridiculous considering Jack's motivations were largely centred around securing her future."

Phryne frowned questioningly.

"Pensions," Alice offered by way of explanation. "If weren't for the strike, most officers would be still without the protection of a pension."

"Sanderson never had to worry about that. That's why he had no sympathy for the strike," Emma interjected. "He was guaranteed _his_ pension."

Phryne supposed she should not be surprised at this new evidence of Sanderson's hypocrisy, but the idea of Jack feeling the need to refuse to take his orders because he was worried about not being able to provide for his wife because of the dangerous nature of his job made her want to weep.

"I think Jack's tipping point was when Sanderson tried to recruit him into his little band of spies." Emma's distaste for the very idea was palpable.

Phryne had a good idea what she was referring to, but still asked gingerly "The special supervisory unit?"

"Yes. Can you imagine?" Emma spat, contemptuously.

Phryne readily acknowledged that she could not. She could not imagine Jack willingly assuming a position that required him to effectively spy on his fellow officers in order to curry favour with his superiors.

"Rosie was furious when he refused. She saw it as the big promotion she had been waiting for him to get and could not understand why Jack refused have anything to do with it. She was even less sympathetic when he went out on strike. So, in a fit of piqué, she packed up and went to live with her father. It was a rather flagrant and very public declaration of where her loyalties lay."

"Poor Jack," Phryne murmured sadly.

"When it was all over, Sanderson made her return home," Emma continued, still sounding disgusted.

"Made her?"

"Yes. I think he wanted her to save face with Jack, to patch things up as if nothing had gone wrong."

"And he also made sure Jack was one of the few of the striking men who kept his job," Alice added. "I'm not sure Jack ever let go of the guilt he felt about that."

"How could he?" Emma asked. "Sanderson liked to remind him of his 'good fortune' every time he needed to keep Jack in line."

It was a sobering thought in light of recent events, and not for the first time Phryne wondered what would have happened if she and Jack had not been persistent and dogged enough to catch Sanderson and Fletcher in their despicable acts.

As if reading her mind, Alice smiled somewhat impudently. "I must say though, my son has seemed much more willing to work outside the boundaries prescribed by Sanderson and his ilk, and to ask uncomfortable questions since he met you, Miss Fisher."

"Not only that," Emma continued for her mother, "he finally seems willing to let himself be happy again. So we don't intend to give you a hard time Phryne."

"No we don't," Alice said reaching to give Phryne's hand a squeeze. Her gaze narrowed briefly. "Providing, of course, you don't give us cause too."

Phryne's own childhood had been so chaotic and largely devoid of the steadying influence of loving parents so she was immeasurably touched and relieved by Alice's motherly gesture and the tacit approval it implied. "I'm _so_ pleased to hear it," she said with an impish grin as any lingering tension dissipated and they all broke into laughter.

When the male contingent returned they found all three women chuckling merrily as Phryne recounted some of her less risqué exploits. "You all seem to be getting along," Jack remarked drily as he sat down next to Phryne.

"I was just telling your mother and sister about the time you arrested me for breaking and entering." Phryne felt ridiculously happy when Jack took her hand underneath the table.

He leaned in and whispered suggestively, "They are already aware of your criminal past, Miss Fisher," and Phryne thought she might get lost in unguarded longing in his eyes. She was so preoccupied wondering how she was going to get though the interminable tram ride home without wrapping herself indecently around him, she didn't notice the knowing grins the rest of his family were exchanging around him.

"It appears it would be pointless of me to try to tempt you with the offer of supper before you escort Phryne home." Alice's amused observation prompted them to look up from the increasingly heated gaze they were sharing. Phryne joined in the general laughter as Jack blushed and looked down at the table.


	4. Chapter 4

And here we are at the end of this little instalment. Before you continue, I must make special mention of Bellairian, who always asks me such wonderfully thoughtful questions which make me consider my choices in more depth.

* * *

_To have in this uncertain world some stay which cannot be undermined, is of the utmost consequence._

_Thoughts on the Education of Daughters_, Mary Wollstonecraft.

* * *

Phryne snuggled deeper into Jack looked up at his face. His eyes were closed, but the lazy, contented smile on his lips told her that he was still awake. "You were right."

"I usually am," he murmured. "But about what, exactly, this time?"

Phryne gave his stomach a playful swat. "That I needn't have been so worried about meeting your family."

"When has your charm ever failed you, Miss Fisher?"

Phryne pretended to ponder this. "On several occasions. _You_ were less than impressed by it when we first met."

"Perhaps." His arms tightened around her and he pulled her further across his body so he could stroke her hip and the small of her back. "Or maybe I'm just better at pretending to be unimpressed than others are."

Phryne laughed at that. "But you never pretend Jack."

"Maybe I'm just so good at it you don't even realise when I'm doing it."

"Somehow I doubt that." She pushed up bringing her face closer to his. "Unless you are pretending now?"

"Not in the slightest." Jack bridged the gap between their mouths and kissed her in a manner that could not be considered anything other than completely sincere.

Phryne smiled when they finally came up for air. "I'm happy to hear it, Jack." She laid her head back on his chest.

They lay in contented silence for some minutes before Jack spoke again. "I knew my mother would be disposed to regard you favourably."

Phryne tilted her face up to make eye contact. "Oh?" she asked with barely contained curiosity.

"Her opinion may have been influenced by some of my more colourful descriptions of you. My mother sympathises with the modern woman."

"Smart woman, your mother," Phryne said, rubbing her cheek against Jack's chest.

"Very," Jack agreed. "I think she would have like to have had the opportunity to live that kind of life."

"Really?"

"Does that surprise you, Miss Fisher?"

"Well, perhaps it shouldn't now that I've met your mother," Phryne conceded.

Jack laughed. "Indeed." He turned on his side so they were facing. "Just ask my father. He had to propose three times before she accepted him."

"Oh dear."

"Yes. She made him work for it."

"She didn't strike me as the sort of woman who would toy with the affections of a man for her own amusement," Phryne said thoughtfully.

"My mother's only desire was to make music her life's purpose. She even got accepted to study in Leipzig at the Conservatorium, but her father died before she finished her first year and her mother couldn't afford to keep her there."

"So, frustrated ambitions?" Phryne asked.

"I imagine. She met my father on the voyage home. I gather she was in no mood to be charmed by the Scotsman who nevertheless went out of his way to place himself in her path."

"Is that where you get your stubbornness from?"

Jack huffed in mock outrage. "Stubbornness, Miss Fisher? That wouldn't be the pot calling the kettle black would it?"

Phryne grinned in acknowledgment. "I can't ague that, Jack." She pulled his head down for another kiss. "Well not with any credibility, anyway."

"I'm glad to hear it." Jack surprised her by deepening the kiss while his hands began to search out every one of her sensitive spots he had so assiduously catalogued over the past few months.

Phryne felt herself sinking into his kiss and his caresses, but a small part of her brain reminded her they had been having an important discussion and she didn't want to be diverted just yet. She reluctantly removed herself from his embrace so she could speak again. "Uh-uh," she mouthed breathlessly. "You don't get to distract me."

"I'm not trying to distract you," Jack whispered against her neck, trying to slip lower. "I'm merely attempting to direct your attention towards more enjoyable pursuits."

Phryne laughed, but gently pushed him back. "We were talking about your mother."

"I'd really prefer it if we weren't right now."

Phryne laughed again and teasingly rolled from his grasp. She shrieked when he pulled her back with equal playfulness. She loved the more carefree version of Jack she was shown in their intimate moments together, but she also loved the glimpses into his background that he carefully meted out, so she was determined not to let the subject drop. "Jack -" her voice rose strangled sort of singsong as his mouth resumed mapping the skin below her collarbone. "Jack." She tugged gently on his hair. "Your mother…"

Jack rolled onto his back with an exasperated sigh. "What was that you were saying about stubbornness?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him, Phryne reached out to run her finger along his jawline. "You've piqued my curiosity. You know what happens then."

"You become like a dog with a bone until you are satisfied?"

Phryne pouted. "I prefer to think of myself as tenacious and thorough in my investigations."

"Semantics, Miss Fisher."

"Come on Jack," she said, an edge of wheedling in her voice.

Jack fixed her with one of his serious, almost stern gazes and Phryne bit her lip wondering if she had perhaps pushed too far when his forbidding expression dissolved into one of mischief as he struggled not to break into laughter.

"Jaaack," she admonished, attempting with limited success to school her own features into a glare. Her efforts were completely derailed when Jack rolled back to face her, looking so exaggeratedly remorseful she decided not to fight the almost overwhelming urge to kiss him, despite the attendant risk to the timely satisfaction of her curiosity.

This time it was Jack who pulled back. "So," he asked looking quite smug Phryne thought, "my mother?" He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly, waiting for her to pounce on the opening he was dangling.

Phryne gave herself a mental shake. It really was something of a miracle, she mused, that either of them were able to concentrate when working a case together. "Tell me more about her," she said, nestling back into his side. "I feel like you know all there is to know about _my_ family."

"Well yours tends to be much more vocal and visible at times," Jack answered cheekily. "My mother, as you may have noticed, is a complex woman. Her talent is formidable, and she worked hard to convince her father to let her pursue it, only to have her chance snatched away from her when he died suddenly."

"So she had plans for a brilliant career?" Phryne asked, idly tracing shapes on Jack's chest.

Jack smiled. "I suppose. But mostly I think she just wanted to follow her passion, and see the world, and she met my father just as all her plans had come crashing down."

"And she wasn't looking to be diverted from her disappointment by a man?"

"Not according to my father. But he persisted."

"Persistence is also an admirable trait in the right circumstances."

"He faced heavy resistance, but the lengthy sea voyage was to his favour," Jack said wryly.

"He proposed before they docked in Melbourne?"

"No, but by then he had at least gotten her to acknowledge his presence with some degree of pleasure."

Phryne laughed. "An important first step."

"He wasn't in a position to propose to anyone when he first arrived in Melbourne, and my mother's world had fallen apart in the space of a few months. So he slowly courted her over the next two years."

"Slow and close?" Phryne asked.

"Slow, maybe." Jack began to stroke her side. "But not necessarily close." His hand lingered on her shoulder and then slid carefully down her back, slowly drawing her closer. "Well, not by our standards."

Phryne sighed contentedly. "More's the pity for them."

Jack's hand paused and he gave her a warning look. "Not quite the way I want to think about my parents."

She did her best to look contrite.

"The slow part was partly down to my father's need to secure his future, but mostly because of my mother's reluctance to be tied down to a life of domesticity."

"Ahh," Phryne said knowingly.

"I thought you might sympathise with that."

Phryne studied Jack's face carefully, wondering if there was any underlying subtext to his words that she needed to be worried about, but his expression was one of amused fondness. She loved it when he looked at her that way, almost as much as she loved the intense stares full of erotic longing they often traded. "You know me so well," she sighed happily.

"So my father had to convince her that life with him would not be the prison sentence she feared."

"Ouch," Phryne uttered almost reflexively.

Jack looked at her in some surprise. "You find it strange that my mother should have feared marriage and all that it represents?"

"Not strange," she replied, suddenly conscious of the need to choose her words carefully. The subject of marriage and the more formal, public expressions of commitment had remained mostly taboo between them so far. "It just sounds so brutal when you put it like that."

Jack laughed. "That description is positively charitable compared to some of the things my father claims she said to him. My mother was young and impetuous and had just had a taste of life outside Australia, but she fell in love with him. Eventually. After he promised there would always be room for her piano."

"And I for one am glad." Phryne murmured. "Considering the eventual outcome of that was _you._" She felt his appreciative chuckle rumbling up from his chest where her cheek now rested and lapsed into silence as she mulled over all that he had just told her.

"Phryne?" Jack's voice cut into her reverie, an edge of worry making his utterance of her name sound slightly urgent. She glanced up to see him looking at her with his particular quiet intensity. She smiled and reached a hand up to his cheek. "We don't need to talk about marriage any more," he said quietly, nuzzling into her hand.

Uneasy, Phryne pulled her hand back, but Jack cut her off before she could speak. "I know your feelings on the subject, and I'm not bothered by them." Phryne looked at him questioningly and he smiled, almost joyfully. "Mostly," he continued, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her palm, "I'm just happy to be here with a woman who I know wants to be with me because she desires my company, not because she is bound by a contract she no longer wants any part of."

Phryne's heart felt like it simultaneously expanded and constricted at his humbling admission. They gazed at each other wordlessly for a few moments before Phryne admitted somewhat apprehensively, "Your mother and sister mentioned Rosie had left on more than one occasion."

"I suspected as much."

"I'm sorry, Jack."

"Don't be." His voice was untroubled. "I won't pretend to have enjoyed it, or even understood why at the time, but I don't blame Rosie now." He grinned when he noted her look of scepticism. "I can imagine some of the things my sister said about Rosie, but as I'm sure my mother reminded her, only the people involved can know what goes on in a marriage."

Phryne looked away, suddenly embarrassed at having intruded into that area of his past. Rosie, his marriage, and Rosie's current situation remained another carefully avoided subject between them. Unfazed, Jack gently cupped her chin to bring her gaze back to his. "It's alright Phryne. I don't mind that my mother and sister told you those things."

Phryne kept her gaze lowered. "It's not something you ever seemed comfortable speaking of."

"No it's not, but as my family have so bluntly pointed out today, you have a right to know now."

"Jack, I'm not sure I -" Phryne began before hesitating. She had often wondered about Jack's marriage and how it had collapsed, but it was one part of his life she had never felt comfortable quizzing him about.

"Do you want to know why I don't blame Rosie?"

Phryne nodded.

"Because she was trapped in a situation largely not of her making and leaving was the only way she was able to exercise any influence over it."

Curiously, Phryne found she was confused by the idea of Rosie feeling trapped by her marriage. Aware of the potential cognitive dissonance in that idea, she still asked: "Trapped?"

"Obviously not physically."

"Of course not." She decided to risk a joke. "Her departures would attest to that." She was relieved when this drew an exasperated smile from him.

"Obviously," Jack agreed, pressing a kiss to her hair. "But, as my mother and you are aware, marriage tends to confer all the power on the man."

"And you don't think this is fair?"

"Well, at the time I didn't question it, and I'm sure I benefited from it, if only because of all the hot meals I knew would be waiting for me every evening." Phryne smiled in rueful acknowledgement at that. "But now I see that I held all the cards. I was the one who got to make all the important decisions and I mostly made them based on my needs and wants rather than Rosie's."

"I must admit, I'm finding it hard picturing you as the heavy-handed husband," Phryne said thoughtfully.

"I thought you liked it when I take charge?" Jack teased back with an unashamedly salacious grin.

"In certain circumstances, yes." Phryne punctuated her words with a playful nip to his neck and squeeze to his hip. "But I can't see it being your preferred way of navigating a relationship."

"No," Jack allowed, "but the war left me mostly incapable of compromising on all the things Rosie felt were important and that was something she was unable to understand. I also lacked the ability to explain it."

"How does anyone find the words to describe the experience of war?" Phryne wondered. "And having lived it creates such barriers to joy, to real feeling, and keeps us quite separate from those who don't share it."

Jack looked at her in some surprise. "You seem to have managed to hang on to joy."

"Seem to have," Phryne conceded. "And for the most part, I have lived it, but that decision so precipitously made in 1918 to not take anything seriously has served as a shield as much as it has a mantra." She looked searchingly at him for a moment. "As I've no doubt you guessed quite early on," she added almost inaudibly.

"That supposedly flippant remark made me realise I needed to start taking you seriously," Jack whispered as he regarded her with some unnamed emotion.

"That first spark of recognition of shared experience," Phryne whispered back, feeling she was again sinking into the intensity of his gaze.

Jack reached out to gently brush her hair back from her face. "Yes. It was one of the first times I had felt it since the war, and I wasn't expecting it to happen with a woman. Especially not one as exasperatingly frivolous as you appeared to be."

Phryne grinned devilishly, not at all put off by his description. "I imagine I did and said quite a lot of things that you found rather alarming for a woman in those early days."

Jack rolled his eyes in acknowledgment. Phryne luxuriated in the lightness of the moment before deciding to risk a confession of her own. "When I told Rene that I wasn't afraid of him, I was lying." Her voice seemed to fill the room, sounding almost unnaturally loud, as though she had pulled back some of her protective coating.

Jack looked at her curiously, but didn't speak.

"I was still frightened of everything he had ever represented. That's why I pointed the gun at his chest rather than his face. Rene used my feelings to control me, to subdue me and I was terrified because I could already sense I was developing those same feelings for you."

Jack was clearly distressed by her revelations, but she placed her fingers gently on his lips before he could speak. "I _know_ you are nothing like Rene. I knew it then too, but I was afraid of the feelings you seemed to invoke in me so easily, without even seeming to want to."

His lips were on hers before she had time to form another sentence. After a long and tender kiss, he drew back and his eyes were full of so much love and reverence she thought her heart might stop. He said just one word. "Phryne."

She smiled at his utterance of her name. It was such a simple gesture and yet it held such intimacy for them both. It signified his willingness to cross the barriers he had so doggedly erected between them originally.

"Why did you stop being afraid?" It was a simple question, heavy with meaning.

"I realised that you had never once used my weaknesses against me. That you are the kind of man who will let his wife go and seek happiness elsewhere despite the cost to your dignity." Phryne buried her face in his chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the magnitude of her confessions. "And you would never force me to stay."

"No." Jack's voice was taut with emotion.

"And then I realised that even though you had never asked it of me, all I wanted was for _you_ to stay."

Suddenly his mouth was next to her ear. "Maybe you should just ask." She could feel his muscles coil as he held his breath waiting for her to respond.

A slow and possibly slightly seductive smile spread across Phryne's face. "I'm quite sure I just did." She turned her face to his, but he pulled back and shook his head ever so slightly and she knew he required more from her, so she offered one word "Please?" She held her own breath wondering if it would be enough.

"I will if you will."

She exhaled as her whole body was suffused with a kind of delight she was quite sure she had never experienced before. "So we are agreed? The dance will continue?"

His response to that, when it came, was as eloquent as it was tactile and Phryne found herself appreciating, not for the first time, that her Inspector was a man of few words.

Some time later, as she was drifting off, a thought occurred to her. "Jack?" she asked sleepily. She received an equally sleepy acknowledgement from the man pressed against her. "Was your mother your German teacher?"

He laughed softly. "Yes, she was."

"I hope you did pass on my compliments, as you promised." She snuggled closer into his warmth and let herself float back towards sleep.

"I always keep my promises, Miss Fisher."

Phryne smiled into the darkness. Of that she had no doubt.


End file.
